Purenting

Pure Parenting in a Wayward World

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One year ago today my plane was landing in Boston as this tragedy unfolded. Such silence. Such stillness. I knew the majority of my family were in the city at the marathon. So frightening. Luckily, none of them were hurt, but so many were. The city came together, it was amazing. I may complain about the weather a lot, but I love my city.

One year ago today my plane was landing in Boston as this tragedy unfolded. Such silence. Such stillness. I knew the majority of my family were in the city at the marathon. So frightening. Luckily, none of them were hurt, but so many were. The city came together, it was amazing. I may complain about the weather a lot, but I love my city.

Filed under Bostonstrong neverforget personal

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Educate Yourself

I keep seeing posts about vaccinating your children. I have never taken a stand here on tumblr. I did vaccinate my own children 20 years ago, but with new information I may not do it now. I work with the autistic population. I am not saying there is any one cause of autism, there are many. I just think families need to gather as much information as possible before putting anything in their children bodies. Read this blog, it provides a lot of good info.

Filed under Parenting Children babies vaccines autism

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I Am From

A friend’s son wrote this poem for one of his 7th grade classes. So beautiful I asked to share it. Good perspective and thought for all same sex couples. So. Much. Love.

I Am From…

I am from pancakes in the morning, the smell wafting down the hall and into every room, waking ​us up and bringing us all to the table.
From a small room in a small house in a small neighborhood, and from Fast Track Mountain, the hill in our backyard, where we sled until it is dark outside, and from hot chocolate to warm us up.
From family game nights with laughter and root beer floats.
From holidays spent with my whole family, with all six grandsons, and my mom’s lasagna, and after dinner, the dessert train.
From my grandparents’ player piano, and from stories of my great-grandma in Norway.
From my grandfather, who convinced us he could breathe underwater through his ears.
I am from under the covers with my flashlight, and from countless hours turning pages, drinking in the words, reading and re-reading favorite passages and even whole chapters until I know them by heart, and then reading them some more,
From the library and from Borders until it closed down.
From The Pike School, in room 185 where history came to life for me.
From dice and decks of cards and board games.
From singing Let the Sunshine In when it rains.
From the Red Sox, because in my house you don’t survive if you’re not a loyal fan.
From the birthday hat and the birthday plate and the birthday flag.
From the “speed racer,” my mother’s Chrysler Sebring, and crying when she sold it.

I am from “Where is your dad?” and “How were you made?”
And from mean words and faces,
And from two loving moms who care for me at home.

Filed under mothering parenting lgbtq lesbians children sons family Poetry